


Zed

by JeanFi



Category: Aliens vs Predators Series - Various Authors
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-01-17 08:39:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1381120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanFi/pseuds/JeanFi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zed, a Xenomorph, finds that more than being male, there is more to him that is different than his 'sisters'.   Sheribi, a female Yaujta also notices there is something different about him.  Along with her own questions about her race's handling of 'hunts' and prey, she finds an unusual traveling companion.</p>
<p>First person perspective, might move to second person later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We start with Zed's POV.

~~0~~

My name is Zed. That’s right, I have a name. I began as eggs do. Then I was a larva, I leaping on instinct. Then came the change as a pupa. See, as I morphed from a creature of instinct into a hunter of destruction, I was supposed to take on attributes of my host in order to be an excellent killer of said species. I was to be a better hunter than my predecessors or even my ancestors. Our species was created to be the ultimate predator even rivaling the creators that made us just to hunt us! My host had other ideas.

Let me back up for you. My host’s species found my queen’s egg. Brilliant and benevolent they thought they were rescuing an abandoned life form. Even singing and coddling the ‘poor creature‘. They had no idea they were lured into a trap. The warm ship protected and gave our species a thriving hope along with plenty of food and hosts.

Even when our queen’s larva-form killed one of their own, they were compassionate and intrigued by a new life form. They fawned, documented, and cooed over my growing queen. They had no idea what they were dealing with. Even when further eggs began to hatch and take a few more of their own, they thought nothing of it. It wasn’t until their exploratory shuttle docked with the main long distance transport and our species out numbered the remaining live-hosts on the shuttle that they figured out… there was a problem. A big one. An infestation that they were ill-equipped to deal with.

Here on the main ship was where I was laid. It was here that my host was taken. It was here that my insignificant yet brilliant host turned the tides on my hive. My host Ava (so her shipmates called her) decided that if my species was going to decimate her species with our aggressive violent ways, her benevolent and compassionate ways were going to lead and override my instincts. Amazingly tenacity and arrogance from a weak species.

As much as I was supposed to be sucking Ava’s DNA, adapting, and draining life energy from her body, she continued to walk the ship. On top of that, she was shoving and pushing her will via telepathy into me as if I was one of her incubating young.

My host was no fool. Oh no, she saw how brilliant my sisters are. Skilled hunters. Honed instinct. Adaptable. Vicious and tenacious species. Ava was determined to turn the tables on us and make one of us HER experiment of hope.

And it worked.

As I changed physically to challenge her species, she changed me to challenge mine. My carapace grew, my legs got stronger and I began to understand a lot more. She grew weaker as she continued through her duties and plan while I grew stronger mentally and physically in mine.

Ava treated me as a last offspring not as a parasite that would take her life. She pleaded with me to take her knowledge and feel her emotions. She was not going to sacrifice her life without something to show for it. She knows this ship and it’s occupants are all doomed. We are stronger and more tenacious than her crew. Did it frighten her? A little, but makes her more mad than anything.

As the time began to close, I became reluctant to leave. It was warm and nice in here. The signals she kept sending me were comfortable and encouraging.

She caressed a hand over me, “You owe me to be something more. I am begging you… go BE something! I saw the ruins where we picked up your queen’s egg. You have the potential to be more than foxes bred to be hunted. You go show those Yautja hunters that you are more than they ever anticipated!”

I held on as long as I could inside her soaking and absorbing everything she had to give. At the time I didn’t understand everything she was feeding me, but I knew I needed to suck it all down quickly. I did not want to leave, but biology overrides comfort. With regret -yes regret- I punched through her chest. As my pale young head came up into the cold new world, I got a ‘look’ at her. Just to show her strength once more, she didn’t die right away. With a shaky weak hand, she let one finger stroke over my wet head with a smile. She grunted her last breath as blood ran out of her mouth. “Go. Be. Live.”

I heard the screaming and the tools being swung at me as I slithered out of Ava’s chest and skittered my way into a safe haven. As I hid and molted, I watched my sisters carefully. I listened even harder through our hive-mind. I didn’t ‘send’, I was very careful to just listen and pay attention to my older sisters’ moves and strategies. The strikes, the feedings with no remorse. Just pure animalistic instinct.

I watched my younger sisters emerge to their hosts in horror and turmoil. Not at all like the expression on Ava’s face for me. Yes, Ava had been in pain and grimaced, but she had a smile. Nothing like these death expressions.

Why only Ava?

Still I watched and learned and soon enough began to understand. Weakening, I was forced to feed or I would die. That would have gone against Ava’s plan. Who was I to feed on? With a swallow, I took my first feeding. It wasn’t very graceful, but it did the chore and I had energy again. I knew it would sustain me, but I didn’t want to do that again. Wrestling with my own biology and an emotion that I did not notice any of my other sisters projecting, I knew Ava had been right. I was different. It scared me. Just how different am I?

Before I could answer that, it all changed. A new ship docked with this transport and a new being arrived. On top of that, I felt the call of my queen-mother of all of us. The blood now being shed was no longer these insignificant Hosts. No, now it was my sisters who were being slaughtered. I could feel their pain and my queen’s rage. The Hosts and Yautja tried to team up to takes us on, but the ‘hunters’ had no patience for the weak ones and carelessly cast them aside like pests. We were the prey, Ava’s species were insignificant!

These Yautja are not much different from us in their careless slaughtering. My sisters killed Ava’s kind. The Yautja killed my sisters. Is this all there is to life? Death?

I had been careful to keep myself hidden from the hosts, my sisters, and the hunters but I could not hide from one. At first I heard the ship’s klaxon as they spotted me and came after me. I had no choice but defend myself for Ava’s sake. Until I could fully understand what her mission was for me, I had to survive. I had a strange feeling in my chest as I killed one of Ava’s kind by accidentally stepping on it in attempt to flee and hide again. Cornered with my sisters, I watched a Yautja target the sister to my left and fired spraying her life fluids over me. Just as he targeted the sister to my right, I heard an even louder ringing in my head overriding the klaxon and the cry of two dying sisters. I curled my hands over my curved carapace and ran. I did not ’look’ nor use my senses to guide my path. I just…ran. I didn’t strike with my arms or legs but I did dash and butt my head through the three Yautja targeting me. One grunted as he fell on his rear, another swung out at me but I managed to trip him with my swishing tail in passing, the third just tracked me as I escaped. That’s right the third and largest of them just watched me as I ran and the call in my head got louder.

As I dashed away from the ones trying to physically take my life, the call through my mind is trying to take my control. A blast of anger rocks my core making my senses fuzz and I physically jerk, stumbling into a wall. The ringing ship’s alarm and bellowing hunters continue as wave upon wave of pain tries to shake my control to bits. My queen’s personal Praetorian are even calling for reinforcements to her chamber as they are being pushed back and dying. My queen and her guards are calling all of us to defend her. Like sheep, they go. Why am I going? What is pulling me in?

She can feel that one of her own is not complying willingly and it infuriates her more than the attack to her eggs and herself. How DARE anyone question her CALL! How DARE anyone even think besides herself!

Wave after wave of mental assaults she berates the ‘one’ who is different causing fear and trepidations among the others as to who is the ‘different one‘. That just happens to be me. It’s tearing the hive-mind in half as we are hunted and dying plus the queen’s anger of a traitor in her mist. Our hive will die swiftly because of…me. I am the traitor for having a mind of my own?

Traitor?! I ‘blink’ and pull my back up straight. Oh now Ava’s mission is starting to kick in. Like a switch, I’m beginning to see things in a whole new light. I take a few deep breathes and concentrate. I need to stop cowering and become a hunter like I was bred to be. Who my prey is, that is yet to be determined, but one thing is certain, I’m ready to fight for my life rather than die for another’s.

Honing my echolocation and sniffing the air, I can sense my queen’s pheromones of rage and lust for blood. I still hide and sneak my way to the queen’s chamber (no reason to get executed before I face my true battle). Climbing along the ceiling, I decide to tract one Yautja thus turning the tables. Besides, it will throw the others off a bit. This is going along perfectly until one of my sisters strikes and kills my decoy.

I’m careful in just waiting a moment and accessing the situation. Already my kind is careful in their first strikes, but I am even more reserved than them. Slowly I make my way to the chamber being very careful to avoid any others of any species. As soon as I enter the room though, it’s all over.

She whirls her great crested head and juts her vicious face right up to the ceiling where I entered. She doesn’t hiss or snap this time. What’s more frightening is that she hurrs ever so softly. She’s luring me in. I shiver.

The battle against the queen, the mother of this massacre halts as her focus completely changes from the many to the one. Everyone stops to see what has caused her whipping tail to still and her scream to turn to a soft noise. It’s pointless for me to try staying hidden any longer. After all, everyone can follow her attention and find me soon enough.

I drop down and felt it. The remaining two Praetorian turn and flank me as if I was the primary enemy. The other Drones and Warriors stall in their own fights. Even the Yautja warriors hold their weapons still. No one drops their defenses, but they all do stall in their sparring to watch one lone Serpent stride confidently before the deadliest of all beings in the room.

Turning my domed head slowly, I reach into the hive-mind to see if I am truly the only one. Not that one, not that one either, nor that one…

Some of them cock their heads curious as to the probe down the hive mind. The queen snarls lightly making me look back to her. Oh, I’m not supposed to be able to send, only she is supposed to? I flinch but hold my stand. Yanking my head right and left, I take in the body language and the situation even closer. I am different but I can’t tell if that is good or bad in my queen’s sights.

In a right claw she holds a male of Ava’s species. In a left claw she holds a female Yautja warrior. Both are anxious as to what the queen has planned for them. For normally she would have killed them by now, but not this time. Oh….she was holding them captive until I arrived. The only one of her offspring that is truly different. Is that fear I smell coming from her about me?

With a wave of her second set of right and left limbs, she tells her personal guards to back away from me. Both of her captures are quite surprised when she screams in my face but I do not back down. I might be trembling viciously inside and down the telepathy-bond but I do not physically move. That piques her as well.

That second right clawed hand comes forth and she trails one tip of that hand straight down the center of my chest. The curious touch has me pulling my back straight and I rise to my full height. Puny and ridiculous compared to her twenty foot height, I only rival the female Yautja’s seven foot size. The obsidian claw slows until it stops at ever so slight bulge at the apex of my lower abdomen. My sisters gasp. The claw runs over it a couple more times and the queen hurrs making my spine chill in a new feeling. Jerking, I look to the Praetorian at my left and then a Warrior three steps behind her. Oh …none of them have a bulge here. What is this?

Once more, the queen strokes and the new chill becomes hard-cold making me stiffen and step back even going so far as to slap her claw away. Stupid move! That second left claw slaps behind my carapace digging in as I wrestle trying to get out of it’s grip.

Possessively she snarls a mental grip through the link so that only I can hear her, and then amusement. Sickening amusement. She didn’t announce it to the others, no she is daring me to buck her authority and she will make me pay. Putting me in my place, so to speak.

My place? What is my place?

Raising her regal head she lifts me off the ground by my hardened head and turns me like some prized toy to everyone. Through our hive mind-link she sends the message,

*This is not your sister. This one has been corrupted by it’s host. This one is a mutant. A she-male that will be able not only queen but seed other species that we can not host within. And this one is MINE to control, do not any of your forget it!*

She cackles and roars her mighty screech making Hosts, Hunters and Sisters all gape. This is not a cry of pain, it is of triumph.

Of course the Hosts have no idea what was said. As for the Yautja, I’m not sure if they understood exactly what she was thinking, but they did know this queen was up to something far beyond the normal Xenomorph-‘Serpents’ they traditionally hunt. Fear rippled through them and Host alike. The Yautja warriors check each other to see if they noticed it too. Yes, they all turn away from their sparring partners to concentrate their next attack on the queen and possibly me as well. The Warriors and Praetorian prepare to defend her and…more.

My Sisters hate me and want to kill me for finding the Queen’s favor.

The Hosts want to kill me for being of a race that feeds and murders their own.

The Predators want to kill me for that is what my race was bred for and do not want me to become the next great one to best them instead.

Wriggling, squirming, and slashing my tail I try desperately to get away from them all, most of all my queen. No, no, no!! I know for sure this is NOT what Ava meant by me being something more. She did not mean for me to bred more hideous monsters. Yes, that’s right, my queen is a monster and I’m not talking about her body, its her mind. The Yautja are no better in trying to make better and better ’prey’ only to allow other whole races to die in the process. Are the primitive Hosts the only kind worth surviving?

I want no part of any of this. It’s too much for my little brain. I was not meant to think this hard. It’s tiring. My head and body hurts, but I can’t give up or they will all win. No, no! I thrash and wriggle harder, she clamps down more beginning to puncture my skin and my acidic blood drips down. Red? RED?! Not green like my sisters or the Yautja. My poor heart is racing and I’m trapped. Not just by one, and not just physically.

Once more she sends a private pulse into my mind: *Cease, it is futile.*

Yes she probably has a point there. Conserve my energy. I go limp and soften my attentions. ‘Looking’ one way with my electro-reception sense, I can see the male Host has gone lax resolving in his fate to die and muttering a series of sounds over and over again. Honing in now on the other capture, I see this female warrior is different than her ‘brothers’. One, I have smelled no others of her kind on this hunt. Two, her armor is slightly different than the other shorter hunters. She wears no helmet. Come to think of it, she didn’t have on when she watched me leave the room pushing her companions aside. Hum, why would only one unhooded female be on this hunt- I sensed the queen’s curiosity to this as well and that is why she holds this one so greedily.

One of the guards comes too close to my face extending her striking mouth. My sisters have abandoned the Yautja warriors to make me their new target. My queen is pulsing a warning to them all bringing me up closer to her great head. My life is in serious peril. I can not refuse my queen and live. I can not take on all my sisters. The Yautja I could probably hide and evade…for awhile. The hosts are of no concern of mine.

I feel my queen’s hot breath against the back of my carapace as she pulls me in closer to her. I can ‘see’ the female hunter watching me intently.

 

*Join me or I will cocoon you and use you as I see fit.* A final threat.

I growl and my sisters all extend their deadly mouths. None of them have this thing called free will. They do not choose, they just do as told.

The soft amber eyes of the unshielded hunter looks to me and gives me the softest of nods with a soft noise. Yes, she is brazen to give me her support with her head unprotected from my or her kind.

That soft sound in the still room draws all attention to her and that’s when I strike. With the queen’s head turned ever so slightly to look at her capture, I lash out my attach tongue. Straight through the soft spot of her temple and straight into the deepest piece of her brain. I scream out as loud as any of the other Xenomorphs of this hive. Our telepathic bond is being shredded and stabbed as if hot acidic nails are being driven into all our brains and burning down each and every vein in our body.

I retract and slam again and again until our Queen’s claws release all her captures including me. I can’t leave just yet and drive my tail into her shoulder for purchase and grip into her chin as I strike a few more times doing my best to tear up the soft tissue of her brain. I have to get her to stop projecting and holding rein over me.

I only stop when I see her start to sway and the Yautja turn on my writhing sisters. Finally I drop down and in the mist of the melee, making my escape. I’m almost to the door when I feel a tug on my tail. I cast a glance only to see the female Yautja warrior clutching to a whip she has managed to lash around one of the last segments of my tail (above the twin knives). Apparently, I am the one to drag her injured carcass from the barrage and battle. She snarls at me to keep going and rips twin devices from her hip. Slamming them together, rapidly punches at them with her thumb. With a flick of her wrist and grunt to me, the blinking bomb is flicked into the room. She grunts again, but it’s too late.

The ensuing concussion waves rip through the dying ship, my crumbling hive‘s dying telepathic bond which frazzles both my ecolocation and electro-reception. In other words, I’m blind, deaf and staggeringly worthless. My grace is that everything goes silent and then begins to fade to dark. I’m hoping this will be the end and yet I’m sorry I couldn’t fulfill Ava’s wish for me.


	2. Communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The have escaped his hive, now to meet her clan.

Chirp. Snarl. Hiss. Roar.

I might hear it, but I don’t understand any of it. It’s not the language of my kind. Then again, my head is thumping like it’s been bounced down a flight of stairs so several of my sense are still numb. In other words, I’m not exactly thinking or seeing straight. I dare not move for I have no idea where I am or what is going on around me. One thing that has saved me already, is my ability to take in my surroundings before I react too swiftly. Now would be a good time as well and I would be able to think better if they would just STOP SHOUTING!

**moan** I tried to suppress it but the light kick to my carapace gave me no choice.

 

"Churr?" Along with a warm gloved hand to my forehead, but still I don’t dare move.

With a slow deep breath, I focus. The female Yautja warrior, I can ‘see’ her somehow now crouched beside me giving me soft comforting sounds and touches to my head. Okay knowing that I have a comfort, I try to move.

I can’t!!!

Wait, no. It’s not that I can’t will my muscles to move, but that I am bound. Anger radiates out, but not just from me. The female is snarling again at someone while tugging at my binds until she is jerked away from me.

This new shuffling sound of fighting swiftly hones in all my systems. Headache or not, I’m going to be dead or worse if I don’t get moving! I jerk and tug but the binds are just too tight for me to yank apart. Wrists, ankles and bladed tail are trussed up like some human’s ponytail. Adding to the humiliation, my tail sticks out of the center of my bound limbs like some sick flower arrangement. They were smart in keeping the serrated edges away from the bind, but they forgot something. I have teeth and a limber body.

Lunging forward, I quickly find out that they are smarter than I gave them credit for. Around my neck is collar keeping me chained to the floor of this cargo bay. Even with limited range of motion, I can see the female who caressed me is now fighting four of her own males. They are not going easy on her, but nor is she on them. There is a fire in her belly making her fight this hard.

Unlike some species, the female Yautja are larger than their males. Still four on one odds are tipped unevenly… hehe, for them! With a foot lashed out behind her, one male cracks into the wall slumping to the floor with florescent blood marking it. These fools did not have their helmets on thinking she was one of them. I am curious what has made her so mad!

With a flick, her whip snags another by the arm, and with a jerk slams him into another giving her time to whirl on the last one. There’s the distinct chortle of laughter coming from him. With a lowered body and steps crossing one foot behind the other, my female hero keeps her sights on her single foe. She may not have a helmet on either, but I have a feeling she doesn’t need it.

So smooth in her steps, not even her dreadlocks sway. Even as the other taunts and trills to agitate her further, this one will have none of it. To me it looks like she is setting him up in her movements. Like she wants him in a particular place before she makes her move, What is she up to?

With a chutter from me, I try to warn her that the other two are preparing to flank her right and left again. She makes no change in her set up.

Finally the aggressor can not take it anymore and throws a shirken disk at her. She ducks under the disk, to summersault right at him.

*SHINK*! My neck is free! OH ho! She wanted that male to be the one to cut me free thus adding humiliation to this fight!

Wasting no time, I launch my interior mouth at the cables binding my limbs. Although I make a swift move, I silently make it as not to draw attention to myself. As soon as I am fully free, I can aid her, after all she did save me.

 

By the time I have myself untangled, she has another out cold in the corner, standing on the throat of her harshest foe and using her armored arms to block the remaining attacking foe. The one on the floor under her foot is scrabbling at his own ankle. NO! He has gotten a dagger out of an ankle sheath and bringing it up to her leg. Legs have major veins and tender tendons!

In a cat like leap, I tackle the female just as he brings the dagger up and her final foe lunges. Without her in between them and momentum already in play, the one standing falls upon the one on the floor stabbing each other in the final process.

To my own demise, I have once again smashed the largest mass of my body into another solid wall. Oh please someone just cleave my head right off! This time I’m in a tucked up ball of my own doing. It sickens me, but I whimper. I’m so done.

Chuckle-chuckle. Then a full blown roar of laughter followed by the sound of slow steps and a clunk of a walking stick. Can he smack that stick any harder to the metal deck plate? My head already feels like it’s impaled, not need to repeat it!!

Warmth. A clawed hand to the top of my carapace and other to my rump along with the large heat source at my front, someone is blocking the chuckling man from harming me. Once more a pathetic whimper slips out of my lips. Damn so powerful creature I am.

I can’t understand anything that is said once again, but I do know a soft tone when I hear it. It’s the same comforting tone Ava would use with me. More and more the soft tones are exchanged and then my head is released.

More than release, lifted. The old male and the female help me rise. She hooks an arm around my waist hoisting my weight heavier against herself. With a purr, I think she is asking if I’m alright but I have no idea or strength to answer her.

A final set of comforting tones comes from the old male before we all see the greatest of the younger males reach up smacking a red button on the wall. Instantly alarms and piercing klaxon are making me swirl and sway.

Mournfully I cry trying to get them to just slay me right now and end all this. Please…please…. I can not go on.

But it is not to be. The elder says something to the female, and I am hoisted over her shoulder like some sack of useless waste, limp tail dragging the floor. Roars are heard coming towards this bay, but the female runs as fast as she can with a burden over her shoulder. I can feel the encroaching doom. I don’t care if they kill me, but I can not take any more torture. Least of all I don’t want anything to happen to her after all she has done.

Why has she saved me?

A turn of the next corner and now they start firing at us. Not just pulse weapons but spears, cross bows, shirken disks ! WHOA that one was close! (Embedding itself into the next corner.) Anything they can find they are throwing at us! What has caused them to be so angry at her? Certainly it can’t be I, for I am nothing but another prey to them and these warriors are fighting like….

Like my queen and her guards fought me. Oh. They think her a traitor as well?

Two more corridors and we are at another hangar. This one has small ship capable of long-distance. In a final push, we leap aboard one and the rear hatch begins to close. I’m lowered to the floor as few more weapons get through the final gaps of the closing door, sparking off some of the interior workings of the ship. It’s a good thing she crouched to lower me, for one of those spears is now sticking out of the back of the headrest. With how much of the shaft is in the back half, I know the spearhead is most certainly through to the front. The pilot would have been dead.

The female lets out a whoosh of relieved breath when the pressure seals inflate into place and the ship glows green signifying it is read for outer space flight.

She spares me only a single pat to leap to the pilot’s seat (mindful of the spear head). Outside, her fellow warriors are trying to gain access or block her escape by guarding the main hangar door. There is nothing I can do but ponder why she is escaping with me.

A few blasts later, and a we are free of the hangar bay, dashing away from the larger ship. The chase is not over though. In the course of her banking right and left to fire and battle the chaser ships, I’m knocked around like a marble in a jar. Fate had been kind enough to black me out once more. Now if fate would only be kind enough to keep me blacked out….

~~00~~

…. No, fate is not that kind. Fate it seems has a twisted sense of fairness.

A tender hand to my brow and soft purr to my ears. Okay this isn’t so bad, I can handle this. A warm breath slowly breathes in and out against my neck. Breathing is a good sign, but not moving has me a bit concerned.

Ever so slightly and slowly I lift my not-quite-so-hurting-anymore head. It’s the female Yautja curled up next to me. With her eyes close, the slow even breathing, and the cooler temperature she is radiating I can tell she is asleep. That gives me a chance to take a good look at this strange huntress.

A large domed head like many of her race with the molted chocolate and mint coloring to her skin. There’s a unique set of lavender spots on her right temple. Come to look at her better, she has the slightest of purple freckly spots down her neck and upon her bare right arm. They even go down her right leg. I wonder if she has more of these spots under her leather and webbed tunic. Unlike the males that were chasing us, her tunic covers two mounds on her chest, up becoming a decorated collar and down to a short leather skirt. It leaves room for her broad hips to move in battle and twist at the waist with the protective mesh covering the rest of her exposed skin. Leaning in, I can see she does have those cute little speckles down her side under the webbing. Curiously and drawn, I touch one on her side.

Her purr stops and she weakly bats at my claw muttering something of a grunt.

Oh, I guess I bothered her. Well, I will keep on with my exam while limiting my touches. I don’t want to wake her just yet. She looks just so peaceful. Peace… calm…quiet…

I can’t resist and curl a claw tip under a dreadlock tendril. I notice that many but not all of her ‘locks have a metallic or leather band on them. Most of the metallic bands seem to have an iridescent violet-black color to them. They match the black and violet stones on the protective collar of her garment. She is making me more curious about adornments, and what they mean.

Meanings…. Things have meaning. Life. A life worth living.

A hand cups my cheek bringing my focus to her face. There is a soft flare to her mandibles with an even softer look to her tawny eyes freckled with gold and lavender. Intoxicating. Even the sound coming from her throat has the softest tone I‘ve ever heard.

I don’t know if she can understand me, but I do know she can understand the language of touch. With a soft nuzzle of my ‘face’ to her spotted temple, I let her know I am well and glad she is too.

We soak in that touch for a few moments and then she gently pushes back from me to sit up. Sitting up before her as well, she shows me something clutched in her left hand. It has a gold band to what looks like a detached dreadlock. On the wide end though are four nasty looking metallic prongs. With a forlorn look on her face, her other hand reaches under my carapace to a soft spot. She taps it, then waggles the nasty looking dreadlock.

I don’t understand why she would want me to wear that. After all she has done to drag me away from being a prisoner by her kind and my kind, why would she want to shove those spikes into my soft parts. Why does she want to this to me!! Viciously I shake my head and try to back up.

Backed into a corner now, I find my head grasped in two hands and a sharp bark from her. Trembling I’m caught between someone I trust and the fear of the unknown. If she has both hands on my face, than it means she set the dreaded dreadlock down. With a glance, yeah it’s there on the floor not in her hand. She must be trying to tell me something.

Nodding, I let her know I’m going to try understanding her. So she lets my head go. First thing she does is take a violet band off one of her dreadlocks and puts it on this loose one. Then, she waves it at the dashboard. With a hand waved between us, and then the device, I know she’s trying to tell me something important. It just isn’t working. Both of us sink in frustration.

After a few minutes, she pushes me to the floor in a surprisingly fast move. Before I can try shoving her off, searing pain shoots through my head again arching my back right off the floor. Like a star exploding in my head, whiting everything out and then….

"Hey… It’s me. Can you understand me? Please don’t be angry."

Angry? Who said that? How did I hear that for I have been severed from my hive, and I know it wasn’t telepathic from where the sound came from. I heard it through my ears. I’m hearing those soft purrs again and feeling those comforting strokes to my carapace even though my heart is racing again.

"Shh, I won’t hurt you. I’m sorry but I didn’t know what else to do. Please, do you understand me. If you do, can you just nod for me? Please let this work."

The ringing is subsiding and calmness is retuning. Even my heart rate is starting to calm. Her hand slows it’s petting, but I don’t want it to stop. Laying mine over hers, I move them both. She understands and together we continue to stroke my aching head. Even though there is a throb where she jammed the dreadlock in, it doesn’t feel quite as bad any more. Feeling my pulse down to a rational level, I give a careful nod.

Her whole body inhales and chitters with glee then launches out the facts rapidly. "What you have is an experimental communications device. The elder gave it to me because when I came back to our clan with you not as a prize or a pet but as a sentient being, he knew he found the right team to try this with. Unfortunately, it meant I had to fight the others off for they wanted you exterminated before you became a queen and killed us all. They didn‘t understand and wouldn‘t listen."

Once more I give her a soft nod to this. I don’t have vocal chords like they do. Sure, I can screech, yowl, and give off a few other noises, but my people don’t have the range of language like they do. We use telepathy to communicate and normally it’s just the queen sending the rest of us just doing. This is one of the other differences to me and the others when I fought back, I ‘sent‘ messages.

I wonder if this device with help me communicate with the female Yautja {My name is Zed}

She stills, blinks and stares. "Zed?"

To both of our delights it works! We have communication!!! Chortles, squeaks and cheers emit from both of us.

{You heard ME! You understand me?! Do you have a name?}  
"Sheribi."

{Sheribi} I send back with a vision of purple dots. Maybe she won’t receive that image but as long as we have a form of communication, this is going to be grand!

Grand… but something else nags the back of my mind. {Sheribi, where are we going?}

Falling to her rump, she looks up to me. "I don’t know. My clan has disowned me. I have nothing save this ship… and …you?"

Now it’s my turn to slump and give the compassion back. Words are not needed in this communication. I lay my hand over hers silently telling her, yes she does have my companionship.


	3. Getting to Know You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sheribi knows that their two species have been at war forever so earning the young Xeno's trust is paramount. To make it a bit easier, tells him her background.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank my close friend and fellow author Sabath for musing and reminding me the importance of a solid background to make a story believeable and interesting.

Zed 3

{a/n I need to break from first person at this point, it will work better in the telling of the story.}

　

Sheribi settles down against one wall of the ship as it runs on autopilot to a remote planet where she knows she can find supplies and not many questions asked. "Zed, I think I should explain a few things but I also need to find out how much you understand, alright? There are parts of your species that my people know, but on the other hand your species is very adaptable and ever changing so…well you are unpredictable."

Zed gives a light churr-chuckle to that. This whole adventure has been unpredictable and she’s saying he is! {I’m unpredictable! I can‘t anticipate anything with you!}

A large soft hand strokes over his carapace once again where she knows all his heighten senses are. Much like a ship’s senor and communications array, this oblong and top heavy reinforced head holds majority of his information input. Without traditional eyes or traditional ears (like most species) everything he takes in is by echo-, electo-, or scent- location. The skin here is also sensitive to temperature changes in feeling a cool breeze or a warm breath of a hiding prey. Therefore the softest touch of a hand is like a thousand kind words.

There are very few Yaujta who have tried to make pets of the Kainde Amedha-‘Serpants’ only for it to foolishly end badly. Sheribi tells him her truth, "I was not hoping to make a pet of you, Zed, but definitely to gain your trust and hopefully learn more. Sadly, yes maybe an experiment."

Zed jerks away from her and begins tugging on the collar still attached to his neck. {Just space me and be done with this!}

Sheribi cocks her head to one side letting her answer out slowly, "No." Before he can get too agitated and fly into a rage leaving her no choice to fight him, she presses her reasoning forward, "Zed, how telepathic are you? Tell me what you sense from me?"

The Xenomorph backs as far away from her as possible nearly folding himself up under the console of the ship. {WHY?!} He screeches it out both audibly and down the communications link making her wince back to the double blast. When she tries to reach out a kind hand he snaps back with his attack mouth her forcing her to retreat as well.

"Zed, I saw it when you fought your sisters and your queen. You are not a mindless animal. You are not some creature that just fights to fight. You have potential." Her voice is soft and smooth like one might use to console a frightened infant. It’s not to treat him like a simpleton it’s to emphasize her point. On top of that., she respects his space and stays back leaving her hands up.

"I know you have a lot of reasons not to trust me. I too have a lot of reasons to fear you. I know that in nothing flat, you could rip me to shreds with those claws and teeth of yours. With your tail you could impale me before I blink. You could feast on me or even use me as a host for one of your young. Do you understand this?"

Zed doesn’t move. Instead he is soaking in her words as well as taking in the rest of her domineer. Her heart rate is slightly elevated, but not to a racing panic-rate. Her hands are open and relaxed falling to her lap empty, but most of all he can sense lost and maybe even despaired in her. Regret?

{Tell me more. I am listening to your story.} Even though he does not move forward, he does not retreat any more either.

The female crosses her legs before her tugging her skirt down respectfully. She does pick up one strip to her skirt that has a light amethyst stone sewn to it to fondle. "I don’t know how much of our culture you understand or if you even understand culture."

{Ava taught me something.}

"Ava?" Sheribi looks up quite curious.

The black head nods ever so slightly. {My host. She embedded some things into my thoughts during incubation that I noticed neither my queen or sisters seemed to think about. It frightened my queen that I would…think for myself."

Sheribi nods back as well quite surprised by the information. That ship she landed on left her very little time to gather much information about the telepathic race. To hear that they could inject knowledge into the Kainde pupa is incredible. This awes her, "So you are just as I suspected more different than just any normal Serpent -I mean Kainde."

{I guess so. But, why do YOU care that I am different?}

The outcast flares her mandibles in a smile, "I too am different. Here, I’ll try to explain. In our culture it is normal for a male to mate with a female to get a healthy heir. You can understand that, your kind destroy eggs that are deformed, right?"

Once more the black head nods. Instinct says ‘Only the survival of the fittest‘. Even their larva only chose hosts that are healthy as not to become an mutated weak adult.

"My sire was wounded young during an attack on his ship but because he was able to restore the communications array even with only one abled arm while the room burned around him, he was permitted to stay. If anything it made him more honorable. He might not have been able to hunt any more but he was able to take the clan ship to the better hunting grounds and get his clan the most upgraded languages into their communications units making them a far more successful clan. It made his clan not only more honored, but a bit feared as well. Made for some unforeseen enemies as well."

She chuckles lightly, "One of the things he learned in researching cultures was this thing called ‘love’ and the power it had. He chose one mate who also saw the strength in only wanted one mate. They decided to bred and teach their young how to be vital to the clan as more than just hunters. Four females were born to them. Some teased and said it was another showing of his short comings with only female offspring but my mother did not feel the same. She promised my sire that we would be valuable mates because of our intelligence thus being able to breed even smarter Yaujta who could be come clan leaders themselves."

Zed comes out of the hole a little bit more finding this story fascinating. For his race, he was considered less because of being male (or hermaphrodite). To hear that Sheribi is considered less in her species for being female! This does make him more curious. Maybe they do have more in common than he first thought.

Sheribi’s heart lifts seeing that Zed is relaxing a little bit more and listening more intently. She continues. "My sire insisted that we learn to hunt. This is not too uncommon, but he wanted us to excel. Therefore in trade to the training officer to give us more lessons he upgraded the officer‘s language unit before each next hunt. Heh, I wasn’t the best at offensive attacks, but I was pretty good at holding my own. Sometimes, all you need is to survive until the next fight."

An amused chitter comes from the Xeno. {It feels like that’s all I have been doing in my short life!}

Maybe she should have joined his amusement, but it pained her more than amused her to his treatment. "I know Zed, and it shouldn’t be that way. We should be able to live not just survive."

The black clawed hand with the red tips roll for her to continue, so she does.

"My sire knew that I wasn’t going to be a huntress and yet he wanted me to have a skill that would make me a worthy mate and not have to settle for just any male. So he taught me all he knew about the communications units. He said that if anything should happen and the males needed to fight at least I could repair this and save the clan to fight another day. In order to save our most valuable assets, sometimes there is no shame in sending out a distress. This is what allies do for each other."

Zed understands what she is saying. {Like us. You and I being allies.}

Sheribi leans forward warmly, "Yes, just like that."

His head kinks to the side making his dreadlock dangle over his shoulder. {But if your clan had allies, then how are you now outcast?}

The Yaujta smiles. This Kainde is catching on much faster than she ever could have expected. Is it because of his host-species or is it that his kind have always been like this and her species have been fools to underestimate them all this time? Either way, it’s very comforting to have someone to converse with again. The last one she could really sit down with was ….her sister.

She gives a soft sigh. "Zed, my eldest sister and I finally got a chance to try proving ourselves on a hunt with some other females. In a four part huntress team we set out. While we hunted, our ship was attacked. I will never know exactly how they were able to do it and it doesn’t really matter, the fact was, there was nothing we could do but watch it fall from the sky and break apart upon reentry. Not even one escape pod had a chance to release. The four of us quickly came together ready for the invasion that never came but the storm that did.

"Nearly a week later, the other clan that was supposed join us earlier, finally made it. They took us on board. Storms were bad but the fact that we four females survived made us something to be sought after. I didn’t want to be a prize breeding stock to be mounted and impregnated!!"

Her fist slams to the floor remembering how many males she had to fight off and keep from being pounced. During a few skirmishes, several of them she slyly jabbed with dipped quills of sedative making them look like drunken fools falling all over themselves. Others she just evaded carefully enough making her something hard to catch and them colliding into each other or walls. Without her aggressively fighting back (which would have been taken as an acceptance to the mating ritual) she appeared weak adding to her disguise.

A few knew exactly what she was doing and found her cunningness even more virile! Intelligence like that plus her body that survived that storm would most certainly make for ingenious and healthy pups! They tried other means to court her with bribes of prizes and power. Those too she turned aside with carefully placed words. Her sister though was quite happy to take a high ranking male as her first.

Zed nods knowing all too well how that felt to be an object not an individual. Even his own queen wanted his body not him. He knew there was more to life that just propagation of their species and the killing of others. There had to be!

His head lifts again and once more he inches a little closer to her. {What did you do?}

Sheribi too scoots a little closer to him. She rubs her gauntlet then scoots even closer so he can ‘look’ at it. "There was one old male on this new ship that sought me out to help him with some repairs in his lab. He heard the rumor that I had been taught about communication units and seeing how the second officer though the old male’s experiments were pointless, refused to send anyone down to repair the unit. It was nice to be wanted for my brains for a change. It took me a bit to get the parts he needed and get it up and running but all during that time we talked about what was really important to us and how he knew and respected my sire. Apparently my sire had beat him and won my mother‘s favor."

Zed once again chuckles to that to which she chitters in her own amusement.

His long talon comes up to stroke the dreadlock bearing her band and his tail slowly swishes back and forth across the floor. Sheribi knows this is the sign of a relaxed Kainde.

"How are you feeling, Zed?" A genuine concern for her companion.

He continues to stroke the dreadlock. {My head doesn’t hurt so much. It’s very quiet once again. I like this feeling.}

Sheribi purrs her own comfort back, "So do I, Zed, so do I."

The two of them just sit there on the floor next to each other looking out the main windscreen as the stars slowly go by. Sheribi had set the autopilot to shoot them far away from the other ship, drop them into another solar system and then slowly drift them towards a planet in a regular traffic patter like any other cruising ship.

The sound of Zed scratching at the collar makes Sheribi’s tawny eyes pull from the window. "Let me get that thing off you."

It’s not like any regular collar one might put on a pet. This one has charges on it for the most deadly of creatures. If released wrong, sharp knives will charge out slicing through the vital veins of the support column most certain to kill eight out of ten creatures. Zed may not know that, but she does and is therefore very careful in removing it and tossing it aside.

"I never understood those things!" she spits out.

As it lands the blades *shink* out. Zed cringes then leans closer to Sheribi now that he sees how much he life was in danger. Yes it’s true earlier he just wanted his tortured life to end, but now, after hearing her story, not so much. A whimper escapes his throat.

Sheribi puts an arm around his thinner shoulders pulling him closer to her thick warm body. "Shh, it’s okay. I won’t let them hurt you."

Before she can say anything else though, something growls from her making him jerk back away from her once more in fear. Her reptilian brows furrow to his reaction and then it happens again making him shake again.

It then that she realizes why he is afraid. The Predator can’t help but begin to laugh laying a hand over her taught belly.

Zed might be wrapping his arms around his lithe body to curl up into a ball again, but the head tips in curiosity to her laughter. He doesn’t want to be afraid of her, but he knows that as young as he is and inexperienced as he his, he is completely at her mercy. His only other natural-instinctual choice for survival is to kill her but he really doesn’t want to do that.

"Zed, you do not need to fear me. My stomach is hungry. It’s not me growling its my stomach begging for food."

{Your stomach makes those angry noises when it is hungry?}

Sheribi chuckles again getting to her feet, "Well it is quite angry at me for neglecting it in lieu of trying to save my neck!"

The long black arms release their death grip on the toned biceps and the curious head follows her actions of digging through and upper cabinet.

"These might not be the best tasting of rations, but it’s what we have right now." She yanks out two vacuum sealed packages then returns to settling herself before him. As host, she rips one open and pulls out the block of hard meat. As she hands it over she tells him, "This is not your kind, I promise you."

{Thank you,} he accepts the ration but waits to watch how she eats her own portion. Quietly the two gnaw on the bricks of protein looking back to the stars as they float by.

 

A while later, the proximity sensor begins to beep indicating their flight will be coming to an end soon. Sheribi pops the last bite into her mouth and takes the ships controls.

"Well Zed, time to begin the next leg of our adventure," she flips a few switches.

{What do you want me to do?} he slowly chews another bite.

Sheribi turns to him with a soft look that his kind has rarely seen from her kind, "No Zed, what do you want to do? This is the beginning of your free life. You get to make choices now on your own."

There his long fingered hand stills with the food half out of his dangerous mouth. He may not have eyes but the expression can still be expressed as he ‘stares’ at her. Slowly his unique lips pull back to what could be considered a smile. {Fun. Ava expressed a word called ‘fun’ that made the most tingling of emotions through her and I. I would like to experience ’fun’….with you.}

Sheribi’s own mouth flares to a smile as well. "Heh, I think I can help us with that."

Shyly he looks back down to the last little bits of hard meat. Before she answers the incoming radio call, she notices something about Zed’s appearance: the tip of his limp tail, the edges of his three tubular back-appendages are changing color. They used to be typical black but now they seem to have an iridescent violet sheen to them. As his hand absent mindedly strokes his dreadlock-implant, Sheribi wonders if this has something to do with it.

The radio pings again and she knows she will have to get back to that question later. "This is X-Tango 3 requesting shore leave rights," she falsifies her designation. This place doesn’t care too much who comes in unless you bring trouble. She just hopes trouble doesn’t come looking for her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We learn a little bit more about Sheribi's background in here. Hat tip to Lani Tupu and Jeffery Combs if you can find it. Next chapter some more about Zed.

Zed 4

This planet is a trader’s delight. It can also be a smuggler’s haven, a black market storage facility, and a slaver’s delight. For the honest it is very hard to find a decent trade.

If you are a decent person though trying to evade and hide, it can either be your saving grace or your worst nightmare. There is no middle of the road on those choices: either someone will help you falsify your identity and take away anything that could trace you, or those same items can be used to help a higher paying bounty hunter find you. Curse or blessing. It’s all a matter of who you find and how they dispose of items to aid or reveal your hiding.

Sheribi’s father cared enough for his four daughters to teach them about rouges so that they will survive and not easily be conned. After all, half the languages he ran across he also needed the varying dialects to go with them and the slang vernaculars. So he knew how to haggle and barter with these people. As one of the oldest two daughters and the one most keen on learning his communications trade, he spent extra time teaching her the social graces of the Black Market world.

Yaujta are traders by nature. Sure they have prizes and ‘trophies’, but what good are trophies or trinkets when going up a stronger and more cunning foe that could end your hunting days? Constantly you need to upgrade your weapons & armor or their alloys to be a notch above a rival hunter or clan. One of the reasons they are called ‘Predators’ is because they prey not only on other species’ bodies but also other’s technology. It would be foolish to reinvent the wheel when you can just adjust the rim to fit your own vehicle!

Sheribi knows she needs to hide until she can find a clan she trusts to align herself with. The best way to hide is to not look for what everyone is looking for: A female Yaujta traveling with a ‘pet’ Xenomorph will stand out too much right now.

Carefully she brings the ship down into an area where it will be traded or modified drastically. At the moment she doesn’t know what she will do. There isn’t a whole lot on this bare ship to trade with.

The engine is cut and she gets up from the seat as the metal pings in it‘s cooling. Going through each of the small cabinets, she tosses anything tradable into the seat.

{Sheribi…} There is a worried tremble in his telepathic ‘voice’ sounding through her gauntlet speaker.

She stops and looks to him. For such a dangerous creature, he looks so timid and scared. Long legs tucked up to his chest, limber arms wrapped so tightly around his knees the biceps bulge. His chin might be resting on his knees but he is looking up to her. {What is going on? Please, tell me what you are doing. I need to understand.}

Sheribi sighs heavily, tosses another can of rations to the chair, then sinks to a crouch before him. All her weight is on the balls of her broad feet making the leather and fabric skirt pan out over her thick thighs.

Where his long fingered clawed hands are swift and sharp, hers are broad and crushingly strong. Except right now her palm soothes over the smooth dome and holds his cheek. “Alright Zed, I will tell you what I am planning. I don’t know how much Ava taught you about society or the universe, but I will do my best. My people are going to search for me and kill me for being a traitor and of course exterminate you. This you and I have both established. “ (He nods in her hand.)

Her hand leaves his cheek to point to the goods in the chair. “I need to find us either another ship that they won’t recognize to get us to another planet until I find us someplace permanently safe to settle or another clan that will accept you as friend and not as prey. We need supplies, too.”

She taps the gauntlet, “I have an idea on how to make this communication link between us even better as well, but I need equipment.”

Zed relaxes the hold on his legs to curl one set of fingers around her bare forearm. {What do you want me to do?}

Her soft hand covers his to soothe, “Nothing. Just be here when I return. I know it’s not ideal but it might be best if you stay within the ship right now. I know it’s cramped and smells horrible, but I promise you, I won’t leave you caged forever.”

With a chitter of a giggle he nods and rubs his forehead under her chin in a show of trust. {It does smell bad in here.}

Sheribi giggles too. “I would really like to take you someplace warm and spacious but also organic. I have a couple ideas but it’s going to take some planning to get there. SO!“ she slaps her hands to her thighs then rises, “until then, we will make do with what we have.”

Zed watches her step back further and scan the interior of the ship. She finds a net trap, an old oil cloth tarp, and a blanket. She sucks one lower fang into her mouth while stewing over the three. One she will need as a cloak, one to hide Zed and one to carry her stash.

Switching to chew on the other lower mandible, she looks down to her attire. The oiled tarp would be close to the same heavy thick material of her leather skirt. The netting won’t hide Zed for anything. With a final toss, she throws the wool blanket over her head like a cloak. “What do you think?”

His cute black head tilts like a curious avian. Too bad his carapace can’t flare up like a crest or eyes to widen to show his true curiosity. {You look different. Not of your kind.}

The fangs flare as she flips the hood back. “Good, that’s my goal!”

Zed takes the net from her hand and begins loading the goods into it while she rummages around in one of the hip pockets to her skirt. Unlike some of the male hunters who carry a knapsack or even attach things to a leather sash, Sheribi chose to have pockets on her lower covering. It has made it so much easier to carry and conceal small things. Even the bodice of her tunic seems more conservative than other female warriors. That’s because the ribbings (or stays) of both her bodice and skirt hide strong needles dipped in poison. Those with green tips are a sedative where the purple ones carry a more deadly toxin to most species. Depending on the type of fight she is in, she can either make her foe stumble and humiliate himself or flat out kill him where he will harm no other again.

Carefully she removes a green one, pokes it through the wool cloth. With a couple little trinkets threaded on and some twisting, the cloak is secured with what looks like a simple broach. She has that done just at about the same time Zed has the net filled. Grabbing a strap from a case, she finishes tying it up into a satchel.

Once all is secured, both know it’s the first time they are going to be parted. Fate threw them together less than a standard planet’s single rotation and yet they are both concerned a lot for the other already.

{Are you sure you will be alright out there?}

She smiles softly for she is more concerned about him who is supposed to be nothing more than a drone. “I have traded before, although last time was with my sister at my side. I should be alright. Look, I know you can probably defend yourself, but… if you need me, just call. I don’t exactly know what the range on that probe will be with all the other radio interference here, but try, alright?”

Zed gives her a soft nod. {I will do my best to be hidden. Try not to kill me when you return and I will try not to as well.}

Her tawny eyes flare wide. “You have a sense of humor?!”

Standing up proud, he swishes his tail, {There is much you do not know about me, Sheribi,} and finishes it with a jaunt of his head.

Sheribi shakes a finger at him in warning, “Zed, you and I are going to have a long talk about Ava when I get back, so you better be here when I get back.”

{Then I suggest you better come back.}

That leaves them both somber. Both a blessing and a plea from each. She nods and lifts the sack. “Alright, I’m going now.”

Wisely Zed steps back into the shadows of the ship so that she can open the door and he not be seen. Sheribi gives him one last longing look before pulling her hood up. Rather than speak and make the gauntlet sound, he flicks the back of his fingers towards her in the universal ‘shoo’ motion.

Her shoulders sink and she drops to the ground. Before she rises back up from her crouched landing, the hatch is already closing and a grubby little native comes running over.

With a couple taps to her gauntlet it now translates this grubby little swindler’s sales pitch. “Good morning! Good morning! So how can I help you? Shine it? Fuel it? Trade it in for a better model? I’m your best friend here!”

Sheribi keeps her face hooded and her voice low. “After I trade my wares, then I will know what I can do. Would you please give me an estimate on a possible traded ship or even and upgraded radio for this one?”

The grubby paws roll over and over each other. “What are you looking to trade for? More class? More speed? Or to ditch an item that is not actually yours. That of course will all factor into the price.”

Carefully toying with her broach, Sheribi knows she must chose her words precisely. No one really wants to mention they are selling hot goods for that news will spread faster than VD in a cathouse. “I am retired and looking for leisure. The old bones aren’t what they used to be and could use more leg room and cushioning. But being shoved out of warrior class, I am no rich widow.”

The grubby rat steps back looking up and down her carefully. The blanket is long enough to hide her clothing and age but not her feet. Yes he can see she has Yaujta feet, but she could be a species that holographic-hides or worse… cannibalizes for camouflage.

“Ah, of course. Sorry for your loss.”

With a low growl she leans over him, “I am not.”

Okay that worries the little man a bit just as she hoped. “Y-yes, of course. When you come back I will have a list for you to chose from. May your trades be profitable.” He gives a slight bow to which she returns with a tip of her hood and then strides down the path.

The town will be a good walk but nothing she can’t sprint back to if Zed calls out--if the radio reaches. With the fresh air in her lungs again, it will be a chance for her to sort out her thoughts maybe even her feelings about her current situation.

Sheribi is a blooded-adult. She got her first kill nearly five years ago as part of her right-of-passage.

<I>She will admit it was more luck than skill that got her that kill. Choosing to chase a creature over loose stones near an embankment certainly helped along with a lucky shot of her own rope to an overhang to keep her from plunging to her death as well. The hardest part was dragging the dead corpse back up the cliff to present it before the elders. They did not want to grant her ’first blood’ due to the nature of it’s death, but her tenacity to defend her kill is what finally granted her a badge of honor. She stuck to the point that she did not lie about how it died (unlike some others!). It was her cunning to lead a beast to his doom, and yet not plunge to her own, as he tried to take her down as well that made a successful kill.

“It was an honorable kill to out maneuver a beast larger and more heavily armored than myself that even these cheep weapons could not penetrate! I did not see anyone else bring in one of these, either. Did you?”

That right there was enough to shame anyone who tried to disregard her kill. Everyone knew the real reason they did not want to give her ‘first blood’: she was a lowly female of a disabled, monogamous, communications officer not lineage of a warrior class male or even female. Sheribi did not stand down, though. Instead the fresh adult of unusual purple spots stood there proudly defending her honor and kill until the elders gave the final verdict of yes or no. It took until the next warrior arrived with a slightly smaller kill for them to be forced to acknowledge her kill. With that final nod of approval, she hefted the beast back to the ship for her family’s meal. They ate well on the tenderized meat (thanks to the fall). Even her older sister (blooded the season before) had to toast her sister’s tenacity!

One kill of course was not going to make everything better. With the rarely seen colorings to her skin already being a source of teasing, plus her unique parentage, topped off by the jabs that her father could not sire a male (or her mother allow any other to impregnate her) it was not an easy life growing up. What kept all of them secured was their family bond. The sisters defended each other when the bullies came. They roared together when their parents were slighted. For most males it would be an embarrassment to have females defending his honor, but that is not how the father saw it. How he saw it, and constantly reminded his daughters, “You defend yourselves and each other. No one can break that bond. If one of these males tries to harm any of you, he will pay the price for disrespecting not only his mate, but her lineage. They must remember, you have the right as to who will mate with you, for it will be you to raise the pup to respect or disrespect him in the long run. It would not bode well for him to disrespect a female who could always claim the pup is not his.”

All the daughter’s eyes went wide with that just as their mother came into the room. He moved closer to her and even though he only had one arm, he made good use of it by taking the tray from her hand and setting it on the table. “I am honored she only allows me to sire her pups.”

To that her mother purred back snaking both arms around his middle, “I have no desire for any others. No others have the gift he does.”

He smiled back over his shoulder to her, “And what would that be?”

“He can slay me with just his words,” she nuzzles into him.

Sheribi leaned into her sister, “They are expecting again, aren’t they?”

As the parents nuzzle and purr into each other with the beginning of touches, her sister smirked back, “If not, they soon will be!” </I>

In fact she really did not like the hunt of a kill. She preferred the hunt and conquer of a new language that would increase the trade process and get her clan more hunting grounds. More hunting grounds would make her clan more revered and feared among them all. Even if others thought that to get hunting grounds by force was more honorable, the clan leaders did not care as long as they got them: period. All Sheribi cared in the long run was that her sisters and her parents were protected and provided for.

Sheribi’s older sister Moya is a much better hunter but also understood the political ramifications of having a large hunting area. It was discussed openly with her family that Moya would make a good mate to a clan leader (or even one rising to become leader). Her skill as a hunter plus her understanding of all the importance of each aspect of a ship’s crew (not matter how small or great) would make her clan a better and larger clan with the potential to be a massive ally to more than just other clans but other races as well. It would take the right male to see her potential and so Sheribi and her parents kept their ears open carefully.

 

As Sheribi makes her way into this trading outpost’s town, she can see some that look like elders hanging out before a stone columned building. This must be some kind of magistrate or legal building. Not that this place will have much in the way of law and order, but stolen goods are not the only things traded here: so are stolen political secrets.

This thought makes Sheribi stop and look around very carefully while once again reflecting back to before her clan‘s destruction.

Moya had a feeling of there being an unrest brewing among the of the ally clan elders and one in particular that was trying to lure Moya to make him her first mate. Even now, Sheribi knows her sister is on a ship somewhere out there expecting her first pup…from one who saved her not one who was stirring the pot of unrest.

 

Lowering her mint and purple spotted head, she brings two finger up to rub the smooth part of her head to say a prayer. “Please Paya, don’t let my personal rebellion effect my sister or her pup. Let her hate me if she must, but do not let harm come to her or our family’s heir.”

It’s one thing to bring shame upon yourself, it’s another to shame your family and it’s decedents by your actions. Some Yaujta clans base shame on a family others on the individual. Sometimes it’s based on the nature of the crime. Branded ‘bad blood’ is a stigma no one wants associated with their family.

A couple younglings dashing in front of her towing a couple littler ones in a wagon to the sweets shack gives her reason to stop. Not only does she stop physically to let them pass, but also stops her musings.

Sheribi may be of no help to her sister at this time, but there is another who’s life is counting on her skills right now. She takes a deep breath and confidently strides up to the pawn stall next to the children’s sweet’s shack.

“May I interest you in something today,” the snake like tone slithers out.

Sheribi taps her gauntlet a couple times to translate her vocals into the this merchant’s lower register that she naturally can not reach. “I thought I would look first. There is no use trading if you do not have what I need.”

He chuckles. “What you see is not all that I have though.”

“Hm,” she nods continuing to look.

 

As she continues to look, something slithers around her ankle. Pulling her fist back she is ready to whirl when she sees out of the corner of her eye a small being at her side. She blinks seeing a collar around it’s neck.

The reptilian like eyes are pleading with her. So helpless and looking so hopeless. She knows she does not have time for any more charity cases, but… she sighs. This is so un-Yaujta-like of her.

“How much for the pet?”

“Ah well, this is a recent and very rare acquisition. What have you to trade?”

Sheribi looks between the creature at her feet and the slithering shop keeper with the all too-perfectly clean hands. “Hum, well if all you have to trade is ‘rare’ and exclusive items, you probably won’t want any of my ‘common merchandise’.”

“Ah-haha, you are a strode one, I will give you that. I just may have a common piece of equipment. What are you looking for?”  
With the shadow of the hood at her aid, Sheribi looks at the lizard-like being at her feet while directing her voice at the trader. “I need an Andorran cosmotron.”

“Oh well that is a common enough item, I do have plenty of those!” And with a swirl of his hand, pulls out a box from under his counter.

Sheribi picks one up, but see the lizard shake his head ever so slightly. So she sets it down, selecting a different one. This one gets the ~eh~ sign. So she goes for one more that gets the nod. Yes, she does know which ones are good, but is testing this creature beside her. He’s more intelligent than the shop keeper gives credit for and also more trustworthy.

“I will be taking this one, and your ‘pet’.” For that, she sets down a hefty set of rations. “Take it, or leave it.”

“Those are Yaujta!”

“Is that a problem?” Her translator keeps her true species still hidden yet the threatening thrust is still behind it.

He shakes his head, “I just don’t want to know how you came by them.”

She chuckles, “Good, because I wasn’t going to tell you either. Now, tell me where I can get some fresh meat.”

With a shaky hand he gives her directions to another stall halfway down the market place. With a curt nod to the dealer, she turns her focus to the lizard. “Up,” she taps her shoulder.

The little claws have no problem hooking into the fabric cloak to scramble up to the broad shoulders. Looping it’s tail with the tiny spikes loosely around her neck, he settles down for the walk to the ‘butcher’s stall.’

Yes she is well aware that he could have a tracking device on him and be a plant, but she knows how to look for those things. After all, her species is knows for putting them on their prey. Disabling a tracking device will be nothing for a communications expert.

“Come, little one, we do not have time to dawdle,” she switches back to her natural voice.

 

 


End file.
